


Our Past

by extraomnipresent



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Has Issues, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraomnipresent/pseuds/extraomnipresent
Summary: Massive spoilers and maybe some out of character ahead!This is a story about what happens if the Knight doesn't become one with the Shade Lord after beating PoH.
Relationships: Grimm/The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some assumptions that I made:  
> 1\. After the Knight beats Absolute Radiance, their corporeal shape does not integrate; instead, their consciousness merges with the Lord Shade. They are also able to contain the Lord Shade because of Void Heart.  
> 2\. Before the Knight entered the Pantheon of Hallownest, they gave a delicate flower to the Godseeker.  
> 3\. In the ending cutscene of the “Embrace the Void” ending, the Hollow Knight escapes from the Seal of Binding. I don’t know how that would work exactly, so I’m just gonna say that the binding automatically disappears once it somehow detects that the infection is gone.  
> Void creatures can communicate with each other through an almost shared mind, only this one is different from that of the mushrooms’ or the Godseeker’s mind because although all the void beings do share their consciousness in a giant pool of void, they still have their own identities, experiences, and memories.  
> 4\. After his last appearance at the Blue Lake, Quirrel has since moved to the City of Tears and led a peaceful hermit life.  
> 5\. The Knight has beaten every single boss in the Hall of Gods on Radiant difficulty and has obtained the “Void given form” statue. Don’t ask me how anyone is able to do that, because I don’t know.  
> 6\. The Pale King is dead, but his last memories and wishes can appear in the form of dreams, and can interact with any bug regardless, even if they don’t have the dream nail. I don’t know how that would work either, but I’m assuming that his power as a pale being is so strong that his dreams are able to penetrate most minds with relative ease.  
> 7\. Since every boss has been defeated (meaning that the Nightmare King is dead), Grimm is also dead, but because Grimmchild is still alive, the last memories and wishes of Grimm can also appear to anyone with the dream nail in the form of nightmares.

Hornet stood outside the Black Egg, watching the infection on the vines fade away and the world return from the sickeningly bright orange to its usual mundane monotone. She pictured the sights of the kingdom in her mind: all the corpses that had sprung to life because of the infection now lay dead on the ground, the orange cysts that blocked passages and stagways disappearing as if they had never been there before. How did this happen? How did the ghost do it?

Heavy footsteps echoed behind her. Alarmed, she drew her needle and loosened her spool, turning to find the hunch-backed vessel towering over her. Their broken pale nail wedged deep into the ground, they lifted their gaze at Hornet: their eyes are now free from the orange tears brought forth by the infection. Their right arm dangled miserable at their side as they wobbled and crashed heavily onto the floor, their pure nail flew across the floor with a few echoing clangs. Hornet had to sidestep quite a bit to avoid being cut by the still lethal weapon.

Vessels didn’t need to breathe, so Hornet couldn’t determine if the Hollow knight was alive or dead; but if she just leaves them here like that it would be very cruel. So she picked up the broken nail, tied one end of her silk to the horn of the vessel’s mask, and dragged them to the bench in the temple. The bench was several sizes too small for the vessel, but thanks to its sturdy design, it was able to support Hollow Knight’s weight.

After what seemed like ages, the Hollow knight finally woke up, their dark eyes staring blankly. Hornet was polishing her needle, and she turned after she heard the sound of Hollow Knight sitting up with great difficulty. She sighed wistfully.

“The infection is gone. I don’t know how it could have been done, but I’m pretty sure it was Ghost who did it. However, I have no idea where they’re at right now.”

Hollow Knight tilted their head as if they were considering something. No wonder the infection broke out again, hornet thought to herself, they are a living, breathing, and thinking creature. Then, without warning, they grabbed Hornet’s hand and wrote on her palm:

Where’s father?

Hornet stiffened. She fastened her needle back onto her cape and contemplated this difficult question.

Hollow Knight was still sitting, their back hunched, the cracked mask reflecting the dim light. Hornet stood up and knew she wasn’t able to answer this question at all. It’s better to find Ghost and see what they have to say.

“…It’s hard to explain. Like you, I also don’t know where the pale king is, but I know that Ghost may be able to find your father.”

Hollow Knight tilted their head in thought again, then nodded, grabbing their nail and heading for the entrance as fast as they could. Hornet, marveling at the decisiveness of the vessel, quickened her steps to catch up. As she reached the entrance, she heard a dull thud and a crash. She turned, only to find Hollow Knight laying on the floor with their face to the ceiling.

…They banged their head on the frame of the arch. Looks like she now has to do some route planning or else that cracked mask is going to add more than a few scratches along their voyage.

* * *

The Knight woke, gradually, from their dream.

They couldn’t remember exactly what happened. They can only recall the roar of the Void, the blinding light, and the dream sigils that scattered everywhere…

The Radiance. She had been completely annihilated, torn to pieces by the Lord Shade as the last of the dream sigils disappeared into the bone-chilling darkness. Then they descended into Godhome with the lord Shade.

Erode, engulf, destroy…

But why didn’t the Void seep out from the dream into the real world. The Knight got up (with some difficulty) and looked around. The junk pit was still a mucky mess, the body of the nailsmith still floated in the water. Everything looked the same as before, except…

They looked down at the flower by their feet, glowing a pale light. Its delicate petals were just as pure as before, without even a trace of Void. The Knight carefully picked up the flower and tucked it away into their cloak, and began to ascend by climbing up the walls.

They wanted to go to the Black Egg Temple, to at least take a look at the Hollow Knight. They weaved through the dingy pipelines, discovering that the meandering flukes were now lying lifeless on the sewer floor. Bodies were scattered everywhere, the belflies whose bellies were previously filled with exploding acid only left their skulls, their remnants and shards of bone added a strange melancholy to the waterways.

The Knight climbed, through the well, into Emilitia’s dwelling, and was surprised to find that she wasn’t staying indoors like she always did. So they stepped outside to find Emilitia standing at the door, gazing into the everlasting raindrops falling from the sky.

“The infection is gone.” She didn’t seem to notice the knight, and instead murmured to herself, “What good does it do to be eternal in this mundane world?”

“I was special and noble because I was eternal. Amongst those foolish bugs I fought against the infection with my own will, but now those mindless beings have returned to the dead, and that leaves me powerless and forgettable.”

“This kind of life…isn’t worth living.”

The Knight was about to pull at her robe to get her attention, but she leaped down into the deep puddle below created from the years and years of rain, disappearing into the deepest darkness.

The knight hurriedly looked over the edge, trying to get a good look at where Emilitia landed in the water, but the noble female seemed to have set her mind. Even the last of the ripples have disappeared.

The rain was still falling. The Knight stood up and quietly closed the door to Emilitia’s dwelling so that the furniture would be preserved from the rain. Then, stepping over the giant shield of the great husk sentries, they walked towards the square situated in the middle of the city. They saw Lemm, who was staring up at the towering statue.

“The infection has been eradicated.” He turned to greet the Knight with a nod, “But what will become of the fate of the Hollow Knight? It was born to serve the purpose of containing the infection, but now its task was completed, will it rest or will it linger in this world…wait.”

Lemm turned and scrutinized the Knight, “…It was you?”

The Knight spread their hands, neither confirming nor denying the statement, and bid farewell to an absolutely flabbergasted Lemm.

They needed to head to the Black Egg quickly. Although the Void inside of them did not stir, they knew that one entity hadn't fully returned, and they needed to make sure that it joined the sea of Void again, with all its other siblings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much narrative, I hope I did ok on this one

The Knight climbed up the walls, past the Soul Sanctum, and into the room where they paid for the bench. Then they heard a faint humming, which made them instinctively think of Myla, only to realize that she has fallen into eternal sleep at the foot of the Crystal Peak. So he followed the humming past the wall that he broke right by the elevator, and it led him to the room where Soul Master had imprisoned the snail shaman.

Right in the middle of the room, singing small tunes to himself, was Quirrel. He was busy organizing the furniture in the room that previously belonged to the Soul Warrior. The room was spacious, but Quirrel didn’t have much to put in it. Ever since he had left his nail beside the Blue Lake he has truly discarded all worldly wealth, but on his way back to the City of Tears he had grabbed some things along the way, including some life necessities from the cargo carts abandoned all over the Crossroads and, somehow, a lumafly lantern.

Hearing footsteps at the door, Quirrel turned and delightedly greeted the Knight upon their entry, “Ah, it’s you, my friend! I never thought we could see each other here--Oh.”

The Knight was waving their hand around excitedly (or angrily) as if trying to say something. But because of the unfortunate wanting of a mouth as a vessel, they had no choice but to sit down at the newly positioned desk. Although Quirrel knew that vessels had no need for food or water, he still took out two mugs and filled them with freshly boiled water. The Knight put their hand on the steaming mouth of the mug, staring at Quirrel with their two huge eyes. Somehow, Quirrel saw a hint of reproach in them.

“Are you upset, my friend?” Quirrel asked tentatively. The Knight shook their head, stood up, and ran over to Quirrel, circling their small arms around him.

Quirrel blinked, then hoisted the Knight up to his knees so they could sit comfortably, and hugged back.

“You’re angry about me leaving the Blue Lake without a goodbye, right?”

The Knight nodded, still hugging him. Quirrel couldn’t help but picture a sad grub when instead he knew that his tiny friend had seen blood and death more than he could imagine.

“I left my nail on the ground because I wanted to say goodbye to my past.”

The Knight looked up, listening intently. Quirrel sighed almost imperceptibly among the whispers of the rain and started speaking while smoothing the mask of the Knight.

“For a while, I felt…lost. I completed my mission, but my identity and memories have become mere fragments due to the mask that I was wearing. I thought that I wasn’t whole, and there’s no point in living in the world if I wasn’t myself anymore.”

“So I decided to take a last look at the beauties of this fallen kingdom before meeting my end, and then I set off without a weapon or food. Even if I die on the way, that would just be my fate.”

“When I went deeper into Deepnest I met an…interesting bug. You could call him wise, but you could also call him foolish. I saw his work surface piled with materials, his hands were chiseling and painting away nonstop, and he was wearing an ornately carved mask.”

“He asked me, why did I go so far into Deepnest without even a weapon? So I told him about how I completed my task but lost my past and myself, and how there isn’t any meaning for me to live in this world anymore. He never stopped carving and painting as he offered to make me a new mask which grants me a new identity and consciousness. But he also warned me about how a mask obscures and erases the past of anyone who wears it. The Pale King mused for so long just to be a beacon that provides light of thought to the bugs under her reign, but how is that any different than wearing a mask? He asked me.”

“I didn’t know, so I just sat there for a long time. He didn’t seem to mind, only telling to think over this decision thoroughly. I listened to the taps and scratches of him carving out the masks, and asked him, why were you wearing one if you knew that it creates a completely new identity? Isn’t that a bad thing? He didn’t answer right away, painting the masks and occasionally dipping the brush into paint. After a while he told me that to run away and hide from his past, to forget the decisions he made, and to obliterate everything about himself back in time. He knew that he was a coward for doing so, but he had no choice.”

“In his dark dwelling I thought to myself: if I am lucky enough to have a choice of accepting my current self and facing the decisions I’ve made before, why don’t I make that choice? So I politely rejected his offer and bid him farewell, heading for the surface. Before I left he found a nail in a big crate that was covered in dust with age and said that if I want to live as myself, I might as well go all out. I asked him one last question before I departed. Did he make the masks for the Dreamers? He laughed lightly and took off his mask, showing the eyes that have been eaten out by the Void. Yes, he answered, the reason that their seals were so powerful is that he went down into the Abyss and used the Void as the pain on their masks. Then he told me that all he wanted to forget belonged to this face and this face only. I accepted his gift of the nail and thanked him before leaving for the surface.”

“I went up to Queen’s Gardens, then through Greenpath, then to the infected Crossroads. Even in places ravaged by the infection, I discovered a sort of strange, morbid beauty, because for the first time I had started to actually try and understand things around me as well as myself. I don’t care what I did before or what my past looked like because if I can’t retrieve them, there’s no point in dwelling. Instead, living in the present is such a better way to live for me.”

Quirrel finished talking and took a sip from the already lukewarm cup. The Knight was still staring into the distance, seemingly lost in the story. Then they pointed to their mask, tilting their head.

“Your mask? I’m not sure about that one. Maybe just like how the Hollow Knight had a mind, your mask also grants you a mind, making you a Void being with consciousness. The mask maker in Deepnest said that the beacon of the Pale King’s intelligence was analogous to the mask giving its wearer a will and a mind, which is why I wasn’t surprised to see the infection break out again.”

The Knight suddenly sat up straight at these words and shook their head, pulling Quirrel by the hand and trying to lead him outside. “There are a lot of infected guards out there, I don’t want to slow you down. Are you sure–” The Knight shook their head a little more pressingly, so Quirrel followed it to the city square, which was filled with corpses.

“Ah, the infection…it’s gone?” He took a quick look around him: no glowing eyes filled with infection, no orange cysts. “This has always been Monomon’s wish…and now it’s come true.”

The Knight was brandishing the spear of a guard somewhat difficulty as if thinking how the relatively small guards could possibly wield and even throw those heavy spears. Quirrel just stood there, marveling at the eerie yet somehow peaceful sight around him. He reached to shift his mask instinctively only to remember that it was gone, so he went over and patted the Knight on the shoulder.

“Now you know that I live here, why don’t you come and visit again some time–are you thinking of switching out your weapon to the spear?”

The Knight put down the spear that was obviously too big for them to wield, their eyes drooping down with disappointment. They hugged Quirrel one last time and turned to head for the Stag Station.

Quirrel watched them disappear into the distance, wondering how much of the disappearance of the infection had to do with this tiny friend of his. But he would worry about that later because now he needed to figure out what to do with the weapons and shields scattered all over the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I love writing about bugs in pain

To be honest, Hornet had no idea where the Knight was, she only went to the City of Tears via the Stagway purely out of intuition. On her way, she found that a lot of the corpses had started to stiffen. Sometimes the cadavers lined the ground so densely that she had no room to put her feet down while walking. The Hollow Knight glanced around uneasily, not sure where all those dead bugs came from.  
Hornet came to the square in the center of the city and was about to continue on, but the Hollow Knight stopped dead in their tracks, staring at the statue depicting themselves. The everlasting rain had eroded much of the stone and the remaining parts were covered with calcium residue brought by the rain, but the stone Hollow Knight surrounded by three dreamers still stood straight. The smooth horns of the mask poked through the veil of rain, proudly tearing into the gloomy sky.  
The Hollow Knight raised their head and gazed at the statue. They silently revered the stone figure that narrated his glories and services, the rain pouring down their face and dripping down onto the stone ground of the square.  
They looked like they were crying, Hornet thought. What thought is crossing through their head right now? If the Hollow knight had thought and emotions, how would they react to this unfamiliar self? Through the eyes of the statue they faced their distant past: the infection, the seal, everything has gone with the wind. The broken mask has damaged its consciousness, and the Pure Vessel has long since fallen to time.  
If the mask was fixed, can the Hollow Knight become whole again? Hornet wondered as she tugged gently on Hollow Knight’s cloak, “Come on, let’s go find Ghost.”  
The Hollow Knight lowered their head and wrote on Hornet’s palm: is that me? Hornet nodded, and Hollow Knight’s hunched back made them look more melancholic than ever. They took one last look at the statue and pulled out their nail. Hornet jumped, thinking they were going to cut the statue down, but instead they only set the nail against the foot of the statue carefully. Then, they turned their back on the statue and not looking back once, headed back for the Stag Station.  
“Where are you going?” Hornet caught up with them.  
The Hollow Knight pointed at the dome of the city, indicating the Black Egg Temple. Hornet was puzzled, “But I thought there was nothing for us to go back to?”  
The vessel shook their head and made the motion to depict a small figure.  
“Ghost? At the Black Egg? How did you know?”  
Pointing to their chest, the Hollow Knight then spread his palms and shrugged, meaning that they don’t know either. Hornet somehow understood their meaning, “So you’re saying that Ghost is calling you?”  
The Hollow Knight nodded. So the two went back the way they came to the Stag Station, with Hornet unraveling her thread and darting from wall to wall delicately, and the Hollow Knight easily advancing upwards because of their height. They reached the Stag Station easily, and when the Old Stag saw that it was these two again, he chuckled and said, “Are you looking for the little guy? Climb up, they just went back to the Crossroads and we’ll soon be on our way to catch up with them.”  
“Wait–”  
A figure ran into the stag station, puffing quite profusely, “Oh, thank god I made it–Huh.”  
Quirrel saw two bugs already occupying the front seat. One was the female warrior who tried to stop him from entering Hallownest at the Howling Cliffs and the other one…  
“Hollow Knight?”  
Stunned, Quirrel uttered the name of the vessel and looked back in the direction of the square, “So you’re them?”  
The Hollow Knight nodded but didn’t comprehend Quirrel’s astonishment. Quirrel’s gaze turned to the needle on Hornet’s back and his mind flashed back to the previous time he met her. He swallowed, “Miss, I’m pretty sure we’ve met before, right.”  
Hornet only nodded, so Quirrel shut his mouth (a wise move, he thought to himself) and climbed onto the back seat.  
“There’s another passenger? You’re heading for the Crossroads too?” The Stag turned and nodded to greet Quirrel, “Looks like with the disappearance of the infection, there’s suddenly a lot more bugs using the transportation system.”  
They reached the Crossroads station not long after.  
“It wasn’t that much time ago when the road down to the hot springs was completely sealed by infection pustules, but suddenly it looks like that all of the infection just went away out of the blue. It’d be great if I knew why, but I’m just an old stag.” The Stag stared at the tunnel leading to the outside world as the three climbed down from their seats, “Since the infection is gone, might as well go to the hot springs someday to give my sore legs a good soak.”  
They bid farewell to the Stag and ventured slowly upwards. Quirrel’s movement wasn’t brisk anymore since he had taken off Monomon’s mask, so he found it a bit difficult to keep up with the two ahead.  
“Say, why are you at the Crossroads too?” Hornet suddenly stopped in her tracks and turned around.  
Quirrel had to catch his breath for a few seconds, “Ah, one of my friends also went in this direction but they left something when visiting me, so I wanted to give it back to them.”  
With that, he fumbled around in his pocket for a while and grabbed something. He displayed it in his palm: a mark with a pointy end, the other end diverging into four spear-like shapes, each curving slightly inwards.  
“The King’s Brand?!” Hornet’s eyes widened, “How do you also know Ghost?”  
“Ghost? That’s the nickname you give them? Looks like we know the same person.” Quirrel peered at the brand that was glowing a weak, pale light. When the Hollow Knight suddenly knelt down both of them jumped, Hornet whirling around to see the vessel clutching the crack on their mask with their only hand. Their thin, lanky body was trembling violently as if they were going through intense pain.  
Hornet pulled Quirrel back a few steps with her. Although the Hollow Knight had just come out of their chains not so long ago, they could still do considerable damage to the two. With the infection gone, at least half of their power has been restored, and Hornet wasn’t even remotely sure that she could pin them down.  
“It’s the King’s Brand! Quick, put it away!” Quirrel obeyed, hurriedly putting it out of sight of the Hollow Knight. As soon as it went out of their line of sight, the vessel collapsed onto the ground like a ragdoll, only getting back up after a good few minutes. Hornet moved back cautiously, and the Hollow Knight took her hand and wrote:  
That was…Father?  
Hornet couldn’t help but pity them. The life of the Hollow Knight was built completely under the light of the Pale Wyrm, so now even the remnants of the Pale King could inflict such pain and emotion within them. Hornet shook her head, “That wasn’t Wyrm, it was only a piece of it after it transformed.”  
The Hollow Knight’s eyes were more empty than ever when they stood up, and the three continued their voyage in silence. Hornet hurried to get to the Knight, thinking that the Hollow Knight desperately needed an explanation–a reconciliation, more like.  
They reached the temple not long after and saw the Knight was updating their map on the bench. They were happy to see the three of them, standing up to hug them one by one. Quirrel slipped him the King’s Brand in the process.  
“This big fella here can’t really take the presence of the Pale King.” He whispered, “So it’s better if you keep it out of sight.”  
The Knight nodded and put away the mark close to their chest. Then they turned to converse with the Hollow Knight. After some whispering between the two wide creatures, the Knight announced that they were going to try and find the Pale King in the Ancient Basin.  
“The Ancient Basin? But I thought the palace grounds there were already…” Hornet didn’t finish the sentence as she realized near the lower edge of the area there was a pit that only Void beings dared to descend, so she discreetly avoided the subject and only wished the two good luck.  
The two vessels headed off towards the Stag Station again, leaving Quirrel and Hornet in the temple. Quirrel tugged at his makeshift hood a little awkwardly, “Well, I guess I better be off too. It’s good to meet you again, Miss.” Then he also set off towards the elevator that descends down to the City of Tears, disappearing in Hornet’s view.  
Hornet suddenly felt a wave of loneliness that she had never felt before, not even when she was sitting in front of her mother’s previous chamber had she felt such a strong wave of helplessness and melancholy. She sat down on the bench in the Black Egg, staring into the mute-colored vines. The last time she was here, some sort of symbol or sigil would light up under her feet with each of her steps, and the corridor was lined with what looked like epitaphs. But this time, the Black Egg was nothing but a barely standing structure. The chamber that had contained the Hollow Knight was destroyed, leaving only the foundations and the scaffolding.  
She let her mind drift, which alarmed her because she hadn’t properly sat down and let her mind wander for a long time. It’s been a while since she had any sort of divergence from her task. What was the task exactly? She didn’t know, but it was swaying back and forth between protecting the stasis of Hallownest and liberating the kingdom from it.  
What or who was she doing this for? Hornet wasn’t surprised to find herself searching for a nonexistent answer. But she was very tired, and she would just lie down for a while, maybe only for five minutes…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to protect Hornet at all costs but for story purposes I have to put her through some very intense angst

She woke up in her dreams.

Hornet reached back instinctively for her needle–defense has always been her first reaction to a new environment–but grabbed only thin air. The situation prompted her to be on high alert. Although she was not able to fully understand where she is, thanks to half of her chromosomes from the Pale King, she was able to sense that this place was not the world she usually exists in.

All around her was a sea of white, which stung her eyes. The floor she sat on was white, so were the vines, the structures in the distance, and even the thorns on those buildings.

Where is she? She searched her memory, digging up a small smudge of dull white from the deepest corner of her mind. Although the white colors seemed to glow, she only saw monotony, and it suffocated her.

She walked towards the end of the hall she was at. The passage was half-exposed to the outside, with an arched ceiling and railings that provided a view. She cast her gaze further and saw a building that she was all too familiar with–a magnificent palace with the symbol of Hallownest as its gate, and thorny vines enveloping most of the structure.

Why was the palace here? She wondered, the palace grounds were already destroyed and the ruins lay in the Ancient Basin. Could it be a dream? Or perhaps a memory?

Hornet recalled that the last time she had been here there were guards. She didn’t want any extra hassle and decided to go in through the walls. With her thread, she swung herself easily over the fences and landed in a courtyard. White birds scattered all around her when she landed without so much as a sound.

Sounds of talking approached her. She figured that her red cloak was too visible in the world of white, so she slipped behind the only doorway in the yard and waited for it to be opened. The door, thankfully, wasn’t flung open but pushed ajar nonchalantly by a short figure whose voice was way too familiar to be forgotten–the Pale King.

The Pale King’s tone was soft, and the authoritative weight in it was gone, meaning that he wasn’t talking to any of his servants or knights. Instead, it sounded like he was talking to a child.

“I must say that your training went spectacularly, little one.” Hornet peeked out just a little behind the door, careful not to expose her horns too much. The short bug was squatted on the ground, talking to an even tinier bug that was partially blocked by Hornet’s angle. Hornet craned her neck to take a look at them and caught a smudge of red.

No, it couldn’t be. Just as Hornet was about to question if she had gone mad, the Pale King moved aside, the child coming fully into view.

Hornet froze. She was looking at her much, much younger self, back in the time when she trained at the White Palace. Her horns were still stubby and short, and her face was rounder. Her child version also wore the red cloak she was wearing now and was holding a needle that was clearly too big for her.

“Thank you.” Younger Hornet didn’t address the Pale King when she expressed acknowledgment. The two just stood in the courtyard, Looking out over the fences into the infinitely white world within the palace.

“You know, your mother would’ve been proud.” The Pale King murmured, not without a hint of sadness. He seemed to be reminiscing, and Hornet watched from behind the doors, transfixed. Then her younger self turned to look Pale King straight in the eye, “Mother told me that you were a heartless bastard who never knew when to stop, but she said she was similar. You wanted to make Hallownest last forever, and she just wanted a child.”

The Pale King seemed slightly taken aback by the words that severely mismatched the size of the child and the innocent tone of her voice. She either had no idea what she was saying or she was somehow mature enough to handle it. So he decided to pursue further, “Why does your mother say that?”

Hornet was stunned as she watched her younger self blurt out such offensive words to the king of Hallownest. She had no recollection of this exchange, so she kept watching from behind the door.

“Mother said that she wasn’t stupid and she knew that if she didn’t have an heir after she goes into eternal sleep when becoming a dreamer, you will take the opportunity to conquer all of Deepnest and take advantage of the empty throne. Then, the precious autonomy we fought so hard for will be snatched away. This is who I am, a product of a bargain.”

Hornet laughed at the irony of the words uttered by a younger self. She was destined to protect Deepnest, become the Queen, and stave off the Pale King’s reign, but in the end, none of those kingdoms could resist the infection. Now she, in turn, serves for Hallownest by protecting its ruins. Hornet wondered what her late mother would’ve thought about her choice.

The Pale King was quiet for a few minutes. Then, still squatting, he sighed and struggled to find words before he said, “I promised to her that I would raise you as I do with my own child. I keep my part of the deal, she keeps hers. There’s no judgment towards you and you are not born solely to serve a purpose. At least that’s my opinion.”

Hornet’s younger self was still staring, emotionless, into the Pale King’s eyes. Finally, she turned away and nodded thoughtfully and muttered, “I miss her.”

“I’m sure you do.” The Pale King beckoned her towards the doorway as he turned to leave. Hornet hurriedly concealed herself behind the door as the two left the courtyard without closing the door behind them.

After making sure no one was around to spot her, Hornet slowly slid down the wall, sitting on the ground. A long time has passed since she ever dug into her own memories. She was never such a nostalgic person, mainly because she subconsciously formed the idea that dwelling on the past would only lead to weakness and defeat.

Her words that her younger self had said drove into her heart like a screwdriver, twisting with every single inch as it pushed in deeper. Yes, she was the product of a bargain, nothing more. There was no love involved, no emotion, it was just a solution that benefitted both sides.

She was an object that can be exchanged, that served a purpose, that prevented bad things from happening. Hornet was surprised to find herself turning out relatively normal up until now, meaning that the meaning of her existence hasn’t really fully sunk in to turn her into a psychopath. Now she knew: she was never meant to exist anyway if the Pale King had simply rejected the offer and forced Herrah to become a dreamer. The chances of her being created were so slim. So frail.

Tears rolled down the side of her face. She wiped them away forcefully, refusing to acknowledge her show of weakness. Even with such a direct purpose to her birth, she had failed to complete the task. Deepnest was already in ruins when she visited her mother’s chamber, and she was just running from the fact that she never was able to live as she was supposed to. She was given a chance, and now what? Sure, the infection was gone, but it was in no means her work that destroyed the heart of the plague. What would her mother say if she was able to see all this? Shake her head in disappointment? Anger? Sorrow?

Amongst the jumble of thoughts, Hornet had let tears flow freely onto her cloak. She didn’t bother to wipe them away.

Now she realized how terribly she misses her mother. The queen of Deepnest whom she only vaguely remembers as a side profile. No voices, no appearances. Just a side profile before she was taken to Vespa. Her entire being ached from the guilt and sadness, and she buried her face in her hands.

“Mother…I’m sorry.”

Her consciousness was slowly fading, and in the last moments of clarity before going into another dreamless sleep, she thought she heard someone call her name. But by the time she realized it, her mind went black, and she was pushed back into the darkness of sweet, peaceful oblivion.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look who updated. Oh it’s me and I haven’t updated in a month. Am I sorry? Yes. Will I keep doing this? Probably. Will people get mad? Obviously. Is that going to affect me? You betcha. But am I still gonna keep doing this? Heck yea.

Here it is. The Knight spoke silently. The communication between void creatures is sort of like whispers that can only be heard by the participants.  
Hollow Knight furrowed their brows--metaphorically, of course--at the crumpled remains of the kingsmould on the ground. This is it?  
The Knight nodded. You can’t see it because you don’t have the Dream Nail. Father hid himself and all of his palace in this husk. Are you sure you want to enter the dream with me?  
Hollow Knight nodded firmly, grasping the Knight’s hand.  
On the count of three. One, two, three, go!  
The Knight swung their nail forcefully at the corpse. Hollow Knight’s body was filled with a curious sensation, as if they were being lifted from the ground and flung to another place. They watched the dark grey and black of the Ancient Basin fade away into whitish-grey dream sigils. They were not afraid of falling, being vessels that could not experience pain.   
As the dream sigils gradually dissipated, they didn’t see the entrance to the white palace, but rather the infant’s room.  
The Knight froze in bewilderment, no understanding what went wrong. Two vessels, tall and short, stood in the corner of the room, blatantly visible. However, the bug occupying the infant’s room didn’t seem to notice them at all while she continued using her roots to take care of the tiny vessel in the crib. The tiny vessel was squirming around restlessly.  
...It’s mother. Hollow Knight’s “voice” was a bit shaky. The Knight grabbed Hollow Knight’s hand in an attempt to sooth them, I think this is memory, I don’t think she can see us.  
The Knight tiptoed over the White Lady’s side and tried to touch her root. Their stubby hand went right through the tip of White Lady’s smooth root, while she continued to stroke the tiny vessel’s back slowly without noticing anything abnormal.  
It is a memory. The Knight turned around, Wanna take a look?  
Hollow Knight hesitantly shuffled over, approaching the White Lady rather clumsily under the ceiling that was definitely too low for them. They saw the tiny vessel in the crib without any difficulty.   
That’s me, right? They asked. The Knight shrugged, I came across this room when I was trying to get the other half of the Kingsoul, I don’t--  
The door to the infant’s room opened with a creak; the two vessels turned at the same time to see the Pale King entering the room. Hollow Knight stretched out their hand with a slight surprise as they tried to touch the king of Hallownest whose glowing light stung their eyes.  
Father? Is that you? The Knight heard them mutter. Hollow Knight’s body was trembling, as if they were going through immense pain. But they still managed to stumble towards the Pale King, making an effort to reach the hem of his robes.  
The Pale Light! How Bright! Ascend! Don’t Return To The Darkness!  
Do not think… Do not think… Do not think…  
Hollow Knight knelt to the ground in agony, clutching their mask. The chatter in their head grew louder, No emotions… No thought… No voice… The Hollow Knight… The Pure Vessel…  
“My child, you’re back.”  
At the end of the darkness brought by pain was a faint glowing pale light. A pure, white light that makes others want to move closer to it.  
...Father?  
“Come here, to me.”  
Hollow Knight found that weak light inside their consciousness and grasped onto it like a drowning man grasping onto a piece of driftwood in the sea.  
“You had already done so much. There’s no need to linger in the past, since all will disappear in time, like me and my kingdom.”  
The clamour inside their head was stifled a little. Hollow Knight shook their head, meaning to show that they didn’t understand. They failed their mission, they weren’t the pure vessel that he asked for, they let the infection spread again. So many innocent bugs succumbed towards the infection, and it was all their fault. Their purpose was to perpetuate the eternity of this kingdom, and they failed miserably.  
“This wasn’t your fault.” The Pale King sighed, “Your mother and I… We were both so arrogant. We thought that creating a mindless vessel could solve all of our problems, but we didn’t realize that defining “thought” itself is an act of thinking, so we were never going to create a emotionless, mindless vessel.”   
“It’s a pity that we didn’t know how to put ourselves in your shoes and asked you to do something that you were never capable of. It’s just like when I desired a eternal kingdom when I knew I wouldn’t succeed, yet I still devoted all of myself to that goal. I decided that since I have the spirit of tunnel visioning and sacrificing everything fo my goal, you would too.”  
The cries in Hollow Knight’s head subsided even more now. They wanted to ask, why did you do it when you knew it wasn’t possible? But in their mind they couldn’t make a sound. The Pale King seemed to understand what they were trying to say and laughed softly, “I chose to believe that it was my ignorance and egotism rather than incompetence that destroyed the kingdom. That’s like performing a show whose only audience was me.”  
“Now I understand. I don’t want you to be as cold, mechanical or stubborn as I was before. We are all living, breathing creatures, imposing this expectation on any being would be an act of cruel torture. No cost too great only makes me lose even more.”  
“I know that you are not accustomed to thinking yet, but your mind is precious. Cherish it, because that’s what makes you you.”  
The beam of light was fading. Hollow Knight discovered that the praise and urges inside their head had became a mere nonsensical mumbling that was almost indistinguishable. They stretch out their hand.  
Father... Don’t go...  
“My time is up. Good bye, my child.”  
The pale light suddenly fractured and was engulfed by the darkness in the blink of an eye. Hollow Knight’s mind was quiet.  
Then, the darkness disappeared. Hollow Knight slowly opened their eyes to themselves kneeling on the ground and the Knight anxiously patting their mask. The Pale King had left with the tiny vessel, leaving only the White Lady dozing off on her chair.   
Seeing the Hollow Knight regaining consciousness greatly relieved the Knight, and they pulled out their Dream Nail, ready to get the two out of this ominous place. Hollow Knight hurriedly gestured for the Knight to wait for a bit and stood up. They straightened their back to the best of their ability and did a proper salute performed only by the knights of the kingdom, all the while facing the White Lady. Although the Knight didn’t understand what the gesture was, they also bowed alongside Hollow Knight.   
Let’s go. Hollow Knight grasped the Knight’s hand as the latter raised the Dream Nail upwards, transporting the two out of the dream realm.  
They reappeared in the dreadful silence of the Ancient Basin in a swarm of dream sigils.  
I should’ve told you this, The Knight put their Dream Nail away, but the White Lady is still alive at the Queen’s Gardens. I don’t think you needed to bow to her when you were in that memory.  
Hollow Knight shrugged, meaning that it was no big deal.  
What did you see? Was the Pale King calling you? The Knight asked.  
Hollow Knight unconsciously ran their fingers along the crack of their mask, Father told me that it was their logical fallacy that led to the creation of my mind, and that the breakout of the infection wasn’t my fault. He also said something along the lines of...apologizing?  
The Knight led the way without a word. Finally, they said, These words are useless now. Everything’s already happened.  
That is true, Hollow Knight patted their short friend on the top of their head, but being able to talk makes me love easier and him leave without regrets.


End file.
